


Rinse and Repeat

by Amethystina



Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, And hanging out at a laundromat, At a laundromat, Fluff, Hospitalization, It's actually really sweet, Just a cute "getting to know each other and falling in love" fic, Like most of my fics, M/M, Mentions of injuries/blood, PTSD, because why not?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 13:06:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5418185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amethystina/pseuds/Amethystina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jake has never been fond of doing laundry. Visting the laundromat is something he does only when he really has to, but he can admit that things are looking up when a positively gorgeous stranger walks in. He might be the most handsome man Jake has ever seen, in fact, to the point where it seems just a little too good to be true. When Jake sees the blood-stained clothes in the man's laundry basket he realizes that's probably the case, because that's some serial killer shit right there. </p>
<p>Which means that Jake might very well end up being murdered wearing nothing but his favorite pink boxers. Just his luck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rinse and Repeat

**Author's Note:**

> I saw prompt number four on this [prompt post](http://theappleppielifestyle.tumblr.com/post/112392287541/list-of-aus-to-consider-where-one-or-both-of-ur) and my thoughts were immediately drawn to Cougar and JJ, for obvious reasons. Somewhere along the way this ended up being a fairly cute story about them slowly but surely getting to know each other, though, rather than much about the bloodied clothes, so maybe I failed a bit at really exploring the prompt. But I had fun writing it, which is really all that matters, right?
> 
> Well, I hope you'll like it, anyway!

 

Jake had met a lot of weird people in his days. It wasn't as if he sought them out or anything, but he had stumbled over his fair share, both online and in real life. Usually, he wasn't one to judge since he was far from perfect himself, and not exactly a good example of a well-adjusted adult.

This specific occurrence, however, was bad enough to make alarm bells go off in his head — and he was notoriously lacking in self-preservation. If _his_ lizard brain got suspicious enough to nudge the rest of him into alertness, something was definitely up.

It had started innocently enough.

He was at the laundromat, watching his brightly colored garments spin and twirl inside the machine, wearing nothing but his favorite pair of pink boxers and heavy boots — as you do. Fragmented strings of code were flashing through his head, while his iPod was blasting music at an ear-shattering volume.

Jake was one of the few people there save for an old lady he knew lived in the building across the street and a tired looking woman washing heaps of children's clothes. It was closing in on absurdly late to be doing your laundry, and judging by the look on the woman's face she was in complete agreement.

Not that Jake knew all that much about proper laundry procedure. His schedule was flexible at best and chaotic at worst, so he squeezed in laundromat visits in between his programming and gaming in whatever way he saw fit.

But maybe this was later than recommended, even for him. That could explain what happened next, because it was usually only in the later hours of the night that the really weird ones started showing up.

Jake's first thought when he saw the man step in through the door was _holy shit_. That had more to do with the man's looks than the surrounding circumstances, but Jake felt that he could be excused.

The man was quite possibly the prettiest — and consequentially the most unobtainable — man Jake had ever seen. The fact that Jake was in his underwear at a laundromat in the middle of the night probably didn't speak in his favor.

Jake couldn't help staring, taking in the man's gorgeous features; the dark, keen eyes, his impeccable posture, and the way his long hair curved _just so_ against his jaw line. The sleeves of his white sweater were pushed up to his elbows, revealing nicely sculpted forearms and more of that lovely, tanned skin.

The black cowboy hat was a nice touch.

When Jake's gaze eventually managed to stray from the breathtakingly pretty face the man was just a couple of feet away from him. It was a reflex to glance down at the laundry basket the man was holding, but Jake had to do a double take once he realized what he was actually seeing.

Then he had to look back up at that face, only to find that the man had realized what Jake had noticed. It would have been difficult to _miss_ , to be honest. They stared at each other for a loaded second, while Jake weighted the pros and cons of pointing out the patches of blood covering the man's laundry.

But Jake supposed that wouldn't exactly be news to the man. They were at a laundromat — getting rid of stains was sort of what you came there for.

It was more due to indecision than self-preservation that Jake didn't say anything. A part of him wanted to, but another couldn't help feeling that doing so while wearing pink boxers with tiny unicorns on them probably wasn't a good idea.

Not that the man seemed to notice. He breezed past as if nothing had happened, stopping at the machine next to Jake's and calmly started to unload his laundry. Jake was impressed by the man's composure; not everyone could make washing clothes with such obscene amounts of blood on them seem mundane.

On the other hand, that probably wasn't a skill as much as it was a sign of a possible serial killer.

Jake paused his music and slowly tugged out his earbuds. The man was busy getting the machine ready, but Jake got the distinct impression that he was aware of Jake's staring — he just choose not to comment.

This was a weird situation overall.

Jake glanced to the side, noticing that the tired woman had left and that the old lady was asleep in her chair, reading glasses slipping low on her nose and Sudoku puzzle hanging precariously loose in her hands. If Jake got murdered she probably wouldn't be the most credible witness.

Still, as in so many other dangerous situations, Jake's curiosity got the better of him.

"You come here often?" he asked, loud enough to be heard over the hum of the washing machines.

The man paused, blinked, and turned his head to look at Jake. It was impressive just how much that one look could convey. The pointed once-over Jake got said quite a lot, too — specifically how bewildering the stranger found Jake's state of undress.

Luckily enough for Jake, he wasn't the shy or insecure kind.

"You see, _I_ do," he said, thoughtfully scratching his beard, "and if you happen to be a serial killer I should probably find someplace else to do my laundry, you know?"

The brief silence was deafening. To Jake's surprise it was broken by the man's attempt not to snort on a laugh. It was strangely endearing — for a possible serial killer.

The man looked amused but didn't reply, which didn't actually help Jake all that much. He patiently watched while the man started the washing cycle before taking a seat two chairs away from Jake. It was a polite distance, probably because of Jake's state of undress as well as his staring. Agitating a possible serial killer might not be the best plan of action, but Jake was genuinely curious by then.

The man dug out a paperback from his laundry basket and leaned back to start reading, but it only took a couple of seconds of Jake's excessive staring for him to look up again. First straight ahead — his expression a mix between exasperation and resignation — before he sighed and looked at Jake instead. Pointedly.

"Yeah, really," Jake said. "I think I'm well within my rights to feel concerned."

The only reply was a raised eyebrow.

"You could too be a serial killer!" Jake argued. "And yes, I am well aware of how stupid that makes _me_ , because if you _are_ a serial killer I'll end up being murdered in my favorite pair of underwear."

The stranger's dark, calm gaze strayed to Jake's bright pink boxers, dotted with tiny rainbow-farting unicorns. His expression remained unsettlingly blank.

"I'm not a serial killer," the man deadpanned, before turning back to his book.

Jake paused for a second, then leaned closer.

"You do realize that's what a serial killer would say, right?" he whispered.

That earned him a laugh, which seemed to startle them both. The man quickly got it under control, clearing his throat before giving Jake an amused smile. He still didn't say anything, though, and Jake wasn't sure how to interpret the silence.

The man was delightfully mysterious. And Jake, as per usual, had no impulse control whatsoever.

"Where does all the blood come from?" he asked, turning towards the elusive stranger.

All Jake received in reply was a crooked smile. The man seemed really determined to read his book and Jake almost felt bad for him. If he thought that ignoring Jake would make him go away then he was definitely in for a surprise. Usually, that only made things worse — Jess could testify.

"Is this where I get to guess?" Jake grinned, knowing that the man was giving him the side-eye. "Did you kill someone?"

Silence.

"Okay, maybe you wouldn't admit to that even if you had," Jake mused. "So what? Someone got hurt? Run over? Those weren't scrubs so you don't work at a hospital." Not to mention that Jake saw hints of a completely different profession in the controlled posture and the hint of a chain — possibly dog tags — peeking out from underneath the man's collar. Jake hummed. "So, maybe you—"

"Bar fight."

Jake blinked.

"That's one hell of a bar fight," he blurted out, secretly delighted that he had been able to get even that much. This seemed to be a man of few words.

Jake was leveled with a look that was part amusement and part reprimand.

"It was." The tone suggested that maybe Jake should stop asking questions for that very reason, but if anything he felt intrigued, not frightened.

He scooted closer, arm braced against the back of his chair.

"Your knuckles aren't bruised," he stated, "so I'm guessing you weren't actually involved in the fighting. Maybe broke it up and helped with the injured, though."

The man paused. The look Jake received was both curious and a tiny bit impressed.

Jake grinned.

"I'm Jake." He held out his hand, completely ignoring that he was still more naked than not.

The man eyed Jake's outstretched hand before he slowly shook his head — as if asking himself what on earth he was getting himself into. That was a fairly common reaction whenever Jake was involved.

He did accept the handshake, though.

"Cougar."

Jake tried to deny that his heart missed a beat when those fingers wrapped around his. Cougar had a nice, strong, and slightly calloused grip, his skin warm against Jake's. He was also agonizingly handsome and Jake almost wished that Cougar could have turned out to be a serial killer. That might have dampened the flare of lust — at least _a little_.

Jake prayed that he wouldn't get a reason to blush since he knew that he'd light up like a firework considering his lack of clothing. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to wash all of his clothes at the same time after all. It had seemed like it at the time, but now Jake couldn't help feeling that it would have been better to be dressed.

Not that Cougar seemed to particularly mind or care that Jake was more or less flaunting every asset he had. Jake wasn't sure if he was supposed to feel insulted about that.

"So, _do_ you come here often?" Jake blurted out before he had time to stop himself.

The question earned him another laugh, which was well worth it. Cougar looked lovely when he laughed, and Jake's innocent curiosity was giving way for a much deeper kind of fascination.

"No." Cougar shook his head with a smile. He seemed to have given up on reading his book, one of his fingers marking the page. "My own machine broke."

It was on the tip of Jake's tongue to say 'lucky me', but he suspected that such a statement would be a bit too forward. Not that manners or decency would usually stop him from talking, but one should probably take extra care while being dressed in nothing but your underwear. It seemed like the polite thing to do.

Not to mention that he wasn't looking to get a restraining order filed against him.

"Is blood-splattered laundry a common occurrence for you?" Jake asked, tilting his head to the side. "Is that why you have your own machine? I bet the evidence is easier to hide that way."

Cougar rolled his eyes.

"Not a serial killer."

"I only have your word for that," Jake pointed out cheekily, "and you're probably not a very reliable source."

Jake received a deadpan stare, to which he replied with a brilliant grin. If he wasn't mistaken, Cougar was struggling not to smile. That said a thing or two about how absolutely adorable Jake was, even when he was being obnoxious. He was also terribly humble, if he did say so himself.

He had to admit that he wasn't entirely sure why they were still talking. People usually got up and walked away if Jake got too invasive and Cougar seemed decisive enough to do something like that, if he truly disliked the situation.

Did that mean he was enjoying himself?

"So, what are you reading?"

Jake was known for switching gears without a moment's notice.

Cougar held up the book instead of replying, cover angled towards Jake. It was in Spanish and Jake didn't quite bother to translate the title, even if he could have given a second or two. He was more interested in launching into a one-sided discussion about the last book _he_ had read, which somehow evolved into him explaining about giraffes' mating habits, followed by a detailed history of the Spanish Inquisition.

The weird part wasn't Jake's choice in subjects, though, but the fact that Cougar kept listening. His expression was passive but he seemed surprisingly interested, even when Jake got up to move his washed clothes into the tumble dryer. Jake merely raised his voice so that it would carry the distance, ignoring the dirty look he got from the little old lady when startled awake from her nap.

The fact that Cougar listened only made Jake more keen to keep talking, and he did so, at length, with more hand gestures than strictly necessary. Cougar didn't even seem to mind when Jake returned from his brief detour to the tumble dryer and sat down closer than before.

There was still one chair between them, but given the size of Jake's gestures that wasn't much space at all.

Jake was enjoying the attention perhaps a bit _too_ much, despite the weirdness of the situation. But he couldn't be blamed for that, could he? It was rare for him to talk to people face to face, since so much of his work _and_ hobbies took place in front of a computer.

It was understandable if he longed for actual human contact every now and then.

At least that was what he told himself when it was time for Cougar to leave.

Jake might have selectively ignored that his clothes were both washed and dried, wanting to prolong the time he got to spend with Cougar in whatever way possible. Cougar wasn't verbal but once Jake started getting the hang of reading his expressions and the smaller tells it was more or less like a real conversation. He could detect the unspoken questions and elaborate when Cougar asked him to.

Talking to Cougar was easier than it should have been, and while their meeting and continued interaction was a little out of the blue, Jake still embraced it with great enthusiasm. He didn't want them to go their separate ways just yet.

He made no attempt to hide his disappointment when Cougar was done neatly folding his laundry, the paperback resting on top of the pile. Jake might even go as far as admitting that he was pouting.

The old lady had left already — possibly due to the late hour — and Jake knew that he should be heading home too. But that didn't stop him from sighing forlornly as he pulled his clothes from the tumble dryer, knowing that his time with Cougar was at an end. The odds of them seeing each other again weren't that great and Jake had a feeling that asking for a guy's phone number while in his underwear would only give him a fake one at best, and a punch in the face at worst.

Cougar picked up his laundry basket, stopping as he was about to walk past Jake.

"Goodnight," he said. Jake got the feeling that Cougar would have tipped his hat if both of his hands hadn't been occupied.

Cougar's smile could best be described as fondly indulgent, which was a bit weird considering how they had met and the short amount of time they had known each other. Then again, Jake was an expert at worming his way through people's defenses, until they started liking him out of sheer over-exposure.

He made sure to smile back because as sad as he was to see Cougar go, he had enjoyed the time they'd spent together.

"I guess I should be grateful for surviving the night?" Jake teased, pulling on his jeans with a jiggling bounce.

Cougar rolled his eyes and shifted his laundry basket, supporting it against his hip in a one-handed grip.

"Still not a serial killer."

"Still not sure whether to believe that or not," Jake countered. He snatched one of the t-shirts from his freshly laundered pile, grinning widely. "Take it as a compliment — it means I won't forget this laundry run for months to come."

"Neither will I."

Jake was just about to pull on his t-shirt but the smooth, low drawl of Cougar's words made him freeze. A light touch whispered against his arm and Jake had to hold back an embarrassing squeak.

By the time he looked up Cougar was already heading for the exit, but Jake managed to catch a glimpse of his smile, even if the angle of his hat made it impossible to see his eyes. The bright flare of lust and hope made Jake's gut clench.

_Holy shit_.

Not that he could be sure what that had meant, but he was at least fairly certain that he hadn't imagined the touch. He might have a vivid imagination, but that had felt far too real.

Cougar had touched him.

Fleetingly and without explaining his motives, sure, but the touch itself — the warmth of fingertips against Jake's bare skin — spoke for itself, didn't it? Jake hoped so.

It took roughly fifteen minutes before his heart stopped racing.

 

* * *

 

The second time Jake saw Cougar was about a week later, at the laundromat.

Cougar was sitting on the exact same chair as last time, reading his book and looking dashing as ever. It was late afternoon rather than late night, so more people were milling about. Cougar still looked up when Jake came in, as if he could sense his presence through a shift in the air — or some other weird spidey-sense.

He smiled and offered a discreet nod before his gaze settled back on the page in front of him.

Jake swallowed, trying to will his heart to calm down, but that was easier said than done when he was bubbling with barely curbed excitement.

That nod could be taken as an invitation, right?

He walked closer, trying to come off as confident despite the way his stomach was tingling with nerves. At least he was fully dressed this time, but he wasn't sure if that was to his advantage or not.

"Your machine is still broken, I take it?" he asked as nonchalantly as he possibly could, picking the washing machine next to Cougar's.

Jake threw a glance over his shoulders, his heart making a tiny leap when he saw the amused smile on Cougar's lips. That was for him. Cougar smiled like that _at him_ — all crooked but still surprisingly soft.

" _Sí_."

Jake grinned, but for once didn't say anything. Mostly because it would have ended up somewhere along the lines of 'I hope you never get it fixed', which wasn't very nice.

Once he was done loading up his laundry Jake took a seat next to Cougar, leaving one chair between them, like last time. He wanted to say something but wasn't sure if he could — or should. He felt nervous and fidgety, and couldn't quite gather up the courage to flat out ask if Cougar had been flirting with him last time. It _felt_ like he had, but Jake was afraid that might just be his own wishful thinking.

His not-so-subtle glances made Cougar smile. Without prompting Cougar marked the page and closed his book before turning to look expectantly at Jake.

That was definitely an invitation — one that made Jake feel all warm and fluttery inside.

His grin widened.

It was easy to find a subject to talk about after that, even if it might not have been the question Jake was dying to ask. For now he could settle for having Cougar's attention; whether or not it suggested a deeper interest could be discussed at a later time.

Jake talked more or less nonstop, but not without making sure to let it slip that he did most of his laundry on Tuesday evenings. That was a flat out lie — he had never had that kind of schedule in his life — but he could definitely start now, if it meant that Cougar knew where to find him.

Judging by Cougar's smile he saw the offer for what it was.

Jake tried not to grin like a loon, but he suspected that he was only partially successful.

 

* * *

 

The third time they met Jake was too tired to talk, having been up for roughly thirty-six hours and spent about thirty of them coding. When inspiration struck he was practically unstoppable, but the dip that came afterwards wasn't always appreciated.

A part of him knew that he should have stayed at home and slept instead of dragging his sorry ass to the laundromat, but he wanted to see Cougar. Or, more correctly, he wanted to see if Cougar would take the bait.

Cougar did.

He was there on Tuesday night, smiling fondly when Jake yawned widely enough to make his jaw crack.

In order to fill the silence Jake offered one of his earbuds, making sure to lower the volume and pick his least weird playlist. Cougar accepted with a smile, slipping the earbud in without hesitation, as if it was completely normal for them to be sharing music after only having met twice before. Jake felt something warm and pleasant grow in his chest, and if he hadn't been so tired he would probably have been vibrating from excitement.

Cougar had a book with him this time too — albeit a different one — so he wouldn't be bored even if Jake was too tired to keep up the usual string of chatter. Jake still ended up sitting unnecessarily close. He blamed it on the length of his headphone cord, but that was a poor excuse at best.

It was incredibly soothing to sit there with his music in one ear and the hum of the washing machines in the other, his shoulder brushing against Cougar's. Jake couldn't help angling himself slightly, seeking the warmth and steady, comforting calm Cougar radiated.

Jake's usually hyperactive mind began to slow to an exhausted crawl, until he could barely keep his head upright.

It took about four songs before Jake was asleep, head pillowed on Cougar's shoulder and curled a little closer than strictly appropriate, given that they were virtually strangers.

Cougar didn't seem to mind.

It was only once they had said goodbye and Jake returned home that he realized that he hadn't even brought any clothes to wash.

 

* * *

 

Meeting at the laundromat became a thing after that.

The majority of the time Jake talked about anything and everything that interested him, but every now and then Cougar would offer his own observations. He never spoke at length but Jake clung to every word, simply because he knew how rare they were.

He got it confirmed that Cougar was a soldier, even if Jake never asked what kind. He figured that out himself — based on Cougar's working schedule and his penchant for mystery and secrecy — but decided not to push, since it would probably only result in a discussion about confidentiality.

Jake was fine with that, and most of the time Cougar seemed to prefer to listen to stories about Jake's work anyway. Jake got the distinct impression that Cougar didn't understand even half of the words he said at times, but the amount of interest he showed was flattering. Being a software programmer wasn't all that exciting, truth be told, unless you combined it with Jake's adventurous personality.

In a way it was both surprising and a bit confusing just how easily they found common ground. They were as different as two people could get, and neither their professions nor hobbies intersected. But it still worked — it really, truly did.

Jake made sure to remember to bring clothes with him the following weeks, but it was obvious to the both of them that he went to the laundromat mostly because of the company. Not that Cougar was any better, since Jake refused to believe that one washing machine could take so many weeks to fix. Not that he was complaining. It was actually very comforting — not to mention thrilling — to know that Cougar enjoyed their weekly meetings as much as he did.

It was a very unique way of getting to know each other, but Jake didn't mind. And he had never, in his entire life, been as enthusiastic about doing his laundry.

He decided to count that as a good thing.

There were times when Cougar couldn't come, of course, since he was sent off on missions that went on for days — sometimes weeks. Jake tried not to worry, but it was impossible not to. It was only out of his respect for Cougar's privacy that he didn't hack into Cougar's files to see where he was and how he was doing.

Jake was definitely _capable_ of pulling that off, but they weren't at a stage in their relationship where he felt that he could get away with it. Cougar had purposefully kept that part of his life to himself, and Jake had no right to go snooping, no matter how concerned he was.

Cougar always came back sooner or later, and he seemed almost apologetic when he did. As if he knew that Jake must have worried, or maybe he felt guilty for having left Jake to do his Tuesday laundry on his own. Either way, Jake knew that Cougar thought of him when he was away, even if he never said so out loud, and Jake could admit that that knowledge made him grin like a lovesick fool.

He wasn't sure if Cougar felt the same, but Jake came to terms with his feelings the second time Cougar was absent. Jake was falling hard and fast. He didn't feel too bad about that, though, since even if they never really spoke of it he knew that the attraction was mutual, and with enough time that could grow into love, right?

Jake hoped so.

He knew that Cougar was awfully fond of him, allowing him closer than most — both physically and in the topics they discussed. Cougar let Jake touch him, never seemed to lose his patience with Jake's incessant babbling, and more often than not smiled that affectionate, indulgent smile of his.

That _had_ to mean something — Jake was sure of it.

 

* * *

 

They had known each other for roughly four months when Jake stepped inside the laundromat one Tuesday evening, and with nothing more than a cursory glance knew that something was very, very wrong.

Cougar was an awfully guarded person who spoke very little, but he was also one of the most caring people Jake knew. His silences weren't for lack of emotions or things to say, but because he preferred to remain on the sidelines and be as discreet as possible. Cougar valued discipline and order, but not at the cost of sincerity.

So when Jake found Cougar staring straight ahead with an unsettlingly blank expression, Jake knew something had happened. Cougar was a difficult man to read, that much was true, but he was never actually void of emotions.

Jake swallowed and walked over to where Cougar was sitting, his concern only growing when he noticed that Cougar hadn't brought any laundry. He was just sitting there, lost in his own little world, not even acknowledging Jake's arrival.

It was mostly to buy himself time that Jake busied himself with loading up his machine.

He wanted nothing more than to place his hand on Cougar's shoulder and ask him what was wrong, but he knew he couldn't do that. Not only because he'd risk getting punched in the face for surprising a Special Forces-trained soldier who might not be aware of his presence, but because Cougar was such a private person. He wouldn't want to bare his feelings, no matter how well they knew each other, and asking would only put more pressure on him than necessary.

Jake's heart was thundering in his chest, both from worry and nerves, when he took a seat next to Cougar. He knew he should probably have left some space between them, judging by the way Cougar stiffened, but Jake felt nauseous with concern.

Despite knowing that it might be a mistake Jake grabbed Cougar's hand, stopping him from moving away. Cougar's skin was cold under Jake's fingers. He barely managed to swallow the lump in his throat, his voice pitched all wrong when he spoke up.

"Have I told you about my sister?"

It was a rhetorical question, since Jake knew that he had. Not in detail, perhaps, but it was more or less impossible for him to talk to someone and _not_ mention his sister and adorable niece at some point.

Cougar didn't answer but he didn't pull his hand away, either. Jake made sure not to look at him, keeping his gaze fixed on the machine that had just started spinning his clothes round and round. The fact that Cougar was there meant that he wanted some kind of support, but Jake knew to respect certain boundaries. The last thing he wanted was to make Cougar uncomfortable.

Without actually waiting for some kind of confirmation Jake started telling Cougar stories about his sister and what it had been like for them growing up. He skimmed over some parts and outright ignored others, but the goal wasn't to give Cougar a comprehensive guide to Jake's past, but rather something solid for him to hold on to.

Jake told Cougar about his niece, too — how Beth was doing in school, explained about her soccer team, and just how much Jake loved her.

Jake could talk about pretty much anything considering the amount of unnecessary information he had stored inside his brain, but he knew that this was the kind of occasion that required something with meaning.

Cougar needed something to ground him.

Jake didn't ask what was wrong. He suspected that it was related to Cougar's work, though, so Cougar probably wouldn't have been able to reply even if he wanted to. Jake didn't push Cougar into talking or even showing that he was listening, since Jake knew that it would only make Cougar feel worse.

He just kept talking, fingers slowly entwining with Cougar's, until he could give his hand a reassuring squeeze. It took almost an hour before Cougar squeezed back, his forehead coming to rest against Jake's shoulder, the movement bumping his hat askew.

Cougar didn't say anything. He didn't make a sound.

Jake swallowed down his worry, but there was no stopping the painful clench in his chest. He held on to Cougar's hand and kept talking, hoping that he was doing something right — that he was offering some kind of relief. He so desperately wanted to help, but he wasn't sure how.

Cougar didn't seem to be one for hugs or reassuring words, so distracting him was the best Jake could do. He wasn't sure if it _worked_ , but it didn't seem to make things worse, which was a small consolation.

Jake didn't know for how long he talked but it was worth it when Cougar looked marginally better once it was time to leave. He wouldn't quite meet Jake's eyes, but his quietly mumbled thank you was as sincere as they come.

Jake fought down his urge to pull Cougar in for a hug or a kiss.

Now was clearly not the time, but judging on Cougar's small, careful smile, it was definitely getting there. That was more than enough for Jake.

 

* * *

 

Cougar was more quiet than usual after that, at least for a couple of weeks. Jake never asked what had caused the apathetic episode, even though he probably should have. It worried him when Cougar's silences were due to actual discomfort, but he wasn't sure if he had the right to start rooting through Cougar's personal life like that.

Instead he did his best to keep Cougar distracted and as content as possible during the few hours a week they were in each other's company. Cougar seemed to appreciate not being pressured into talking.

They began sitting as close as they physically could. Some part of them was always touching, be it their shoulders, knees, or on occasion their feet, when Jake hooked his around Cougar's with a cheeky grin.

The attraction had taken a backseat to give Cougar room to breathe, but both of them obviously craved closeness. Jake fell asleep on Cougar twice during the weeks that followed, and on both occasions he was sure that he could feel gentle fingers run through his hair, tender and soothing.

They still didn't speak openly about what was growing between them, which made Jake a tiny bit fidgety, but he decided to be patient. He knew that their way of meeting, without having exchanged phone numbers or even surnames, was bound to be too little eventually, but he wasn't going to push for it to happen — not quite yet, at least.

There was something fragile and unbelievably precious about this thing they had created. It was a private little bubble, sheltered from the outside world, and Jake would hate to shatter it.

He could wait.

They had plenty of time, right?

 

* * *

 

On the first week that Cougar didn't show up Jake wasn't worried — not even by the second. By the third he was starting to feel lonely and a little anxious, but he knew that Cougar's missions could last for weeks, or even months if necessary.

By week four Jake had a hard time keeping his hands to himself, his fingers itching to find out where Cougar had gone. He knew that Cougar couldn't have told him even if he had known that he was going on a mission, but the fact that Jake had no idea how long he would have to wait for his return was nerve-wracking.

If Cougar was able to return at all.

Jake quickly pushed that thought aside, but for each day that passed he grew more and more restless. It was impossible not to think up the worst possible scenarios, especially when he lay in bed, trying to sleep. The fear was like a lump of ice in his chest.

He still went to the laundromat every Tuesday, hoping that he would find Cougar lounging in one of the chairs, book in hand and that crooked, fond smile on his lips.

He never did.

Jake talked himself out of spying numerous times, but by the time week six rolled around he was worried enough to not give a damn. He knew it was confidential and that he was breaking all kinds of laws, but if Cougar had gone down during a mission Jake had to know.

He still felt guilty. Not because he was hacking into secret government databases, but because it was a breach of trust between him and Cougar. But what else could he do? He was driving himself insane, too upset to sleep or eat properly.

It was tedious work, mostly because he didn't even have a name to go on. Cougar was, unsurprisingly, not Cougar's real name, or listed in his file. So Jake was left to narrow down his searches based on what little he did know, like the base Cougar was stationed at, roughly what age he was, and his rank — which had to be above private, at the very least.

Jake had to stop for a second when he finally found him.

Sergeant Carlos Alvarez. Special Forces trained sniper.

It suddenly got a little difficult to breathe.

Jake had always known that Cougar was a soldier — and a dangerous one at that — but he still felt a twinge of apprehension knowing just _how_ dangerous. It was one thing to fleetingly register it as Cougar's profession, but another to see it spelled out in such formal, ruthless words.

He swallowed and bypassed anything that could resemble a kill count. He didn't want to know.

He focused instead on what little information he could find about Cougar's current whereabouts. There were no mentions of a mission or what it had been about — unless Jake was willing to dig even deeper — but he did find that Cougar was currently out of commission due to physical injury.

Jake stopped breathing.

A part of him had suspected that, sure, but it was still a bit of a shock to have it confirmed.

Cougar had gotten hurt. Judging by the timestamp he hadn't been stateside for more than a week, but Jake still felt nauseous. His heart was hammering in his chest and his hands trembled when he slowly tapped a couple of keys, trying to find where Cougar was hospitalized.

It was nearly impossible to breathe around the lump in his throat and Jake acted on autopilot. He had to find Cougar, or at the very least figure out how badly he was injured. Cougar had no means to contact Jake, so he would have to be the one to come to Cougar.

Jake wouldn't be able to calm down until he had confirmed that Cougar would be okay.

 

* * *

 

Jake fidgeted where he sat next to Cougar's bedside. Getting inside the hospital section reserved for the military had been no easy feat and wouldn't have been possible if Jake hadn't forged the necessary forms and identification papers. Some part of him hadn't even expected it to work, so now that it had he was at loss of what to do.

Luckily enough, Cougar was sleeping, so at least Jake got a couple of minutes to prepare.

He had no idea how Cougar would react, partly because he was still hopped up on morphine according to the nurses, but mostly because Jake really shouldn't be there. He shouldn't even have Cougar's real name, much less show up at the hospital after Cougar had gotten wounded on a mission Jake wasn't authorized to know about.

The more Jake thought about it, the more he began to realize that he'd fucked up. The hacking had seemed entirely plausible at the time, but now he was less sure. Now he was faced with having to explain just what he was capable of to the man he was head-over-heels in love with — who might or might not feel the same.

Odds were that it wouldn't go over very well.

Still, another part of him thought it was worth it. He knew the severity of Cougar's injuries and the approximate time it would take for him to recover. It calmed Jake's immensely to know that Cougar would be okay, even if it he had gotten pretty banged up, shot once, and cracked a rib.

Cougar looked so different while sleeping.

Part of it was the lack of a hat, no doubt, but more so than that the way he was absolutely motionless. Jake had never seen Cougar so relaxed and unaware of his surroundings. Even when he'd had his minor episode of PTSD he had been stiff with tension.

Now he looked calm — serene almost — and Jake tried his best not to stare. He was already invading Cougar's privacy by tracking him down like he had; watching him sleep was only going to make Jake feel like an even bigger creep.

Minutes passed in silence, during which Jake tried to figure out what to say. It was difficult to plan ahead, though, since he had no idea how Cougar would react to him showing up unannounced like this.

It had never really occurred to Jake just how terrifying his particular skills could be to less computer oriented people. How he could find them even when they were supposedly safe behind walls of confidentiality and secrecy.

The moment of truth came a little sooner than Jake would have liked, but he probably wouldn't be prepared even if he was given hours to mull it over.

When Cougar's eyes fluttered open Jake couldn't help holding his breath, just for a second. There were still a couple of cuts and healing bruises marring Cougar's skin — he had one particularly nasty gash just below his hairline, on the left side of his face. Jake couldn't help wondering if it would scar.

Jake scooted closer, careful not to move too quickly and risk startling Cougar, who looked mildly groggy and disoriented. He apparently hadn't noticed Jake yet.

"Hey," Jake whispered softly, smiling when Cougar blinked and looked his way. "You come here often?"

For a second Jake wasn't sure if Cougar had heard — or whether or not he should be prepared to be escorted out by security — until something within Cougar seemed to uncoil. He looked exhausted, eyes half-lidded and skin paler than usual against the white sheets, but he did smile. It was small and weak, but it was a smile.

Jake reached out on a reflex when he saw Cougar's hand move, and judging by how Cougar laced their fingers together it was the right choice. His grip was deceptively strong, but Jake took that as a good sign.

His heart was fluttering in his chest, both from elation and nerves, overpowered only by his relief.

"Hi there. You okay?" It was a stupid question so Jake quickly clarified, "Are you in pain?"

Cougar seemed to think on that for a second before he shook his head. His eyes wouldn't leave Jake's face.

Now more than ever Jake knew that he would have to lead the conversation — Cougar wouldn't want to speak when he was in this condition.

"I guess you're wondering what I'm doing here?" Jake squeezed Cougar's fingers, inching closer, until he was sitting on the edge of his chair. "Well, it's not strictly legal."

Cougar raised an eyebrow but looked surprisingly amused. Jake cleared his throat, trying to fight down his blush.

"I... uh, might have peeked at your military records." Jake glanced down at his feet, clearing his throat. "And, like, falsified information to get me in here. A little."

He almost jumped when Cougar squeezed his hand. Jake looked up on pure reflex, Cougar's expression a mix of fond exasperation and amusement. That was a good thing, right?

Jake smiled tentatively.

"You're not mad?"

Cougar shook his head, his smile soft and a little loopy, but that could be because of the drugs.

Jake took a deep breath.

"Okay, that's good. But I have to warn you — the nurse thinks I'm your boyfriend." He wasn't supposed to blurt that out. Jake cringed. "Uh. I mean... well..."

He was reluctant to meet Cougar's confused gaze. Jake licked his lips and scratched his neck to buy himself some time.

"Well, I didn't exactly forge marriage records to get in here—" he chose not to mention that he definitely _could_ have, "—but there was still some paperwork needed, and I might have unintentionally managed to make it seem like I knew you quite, uh... intimately."

Mostly because of the look on his face when he had been let inside Cougar's room and seen him all bruised and bandaged. Jake hadn't been able to keep the anguish from shining through. He might not know what Cougar felt for him, but Jake was stupidly in love.

Cougar let out what could have been a chuckle, his eyes sparkling with mirth. Jake's heart skipped a beat.

"That's—" He had to clear his throat, but he still sounded a bit squeaky. "Is that okay?"

DADT might have been repealed but to openly admit something like that could still have consequences, which was why Jake had tried not to go there. Cougar didn't seem to mind, though, judging by his smile. He nodded a second later, which was all the confirmation Jake needed to know that Cougar really didn't mind.

Jake bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from grinning like a fool.

"Does that mean that I can ask you out on an actual date and not just meet you when we do laundry as a pretence to see each other?" Jake asked, humor making his voice a little unstable.

Cougar squeezed his hand and nodded again. This time Jake did grin, wide and happy.

"That's awesome," he mumbled, excitement bubbling inside of him.

His hand was steady when he reached out, his fingertips feather-light as he gently touched Cougar's cheek. It made Jake's chest squeeze from fondness when Cougar's eyes fluttered close and he leaned into the touch.

"I'm Jake Jensen, by the way. Well, Jacob Jensen, but if you call me that I'm going to assume you're angry with me, since that's what my sister does." He might be close to babbling, but Jake felt that he was excused.

He took a deep breath.

"I don't actually wash clothes on Tuesdays." He had no idea why he decided to say that. Perhaps it was the smile lingering on Cougar's lips, his eyes closed and expression utterly relaxed. Jake stroked his thumb along Cougar's cheekbone. "I just said that so that I would get to see you more often."

Cougar looked up.

"I know." Cougar's voice was hoarse, but not so much that Jake couldn't hear what he was saying.

Jake pushed down the giddiness growing inside of him.

"And your washing machine has been fixed for ages, hasn't it?"

Cougar nodded, his smile turning crooked and amused. Jake carefully brushed Cougar's hair back.

"Glad we have that sorted out," he said, watching as Cougar's lids grew heavy. He had to be exhausted, what with all the pain medication he was on. Jake raised their hands, kissing Cougar's knuckles. "You go to sleep. I'll be here."

It took a moment before Cougar gave a tired nod. A couple of seconds later he had fallen back asleep, still clutching Jake's hand in his. Jake smiled, his fingers running through Cougar's hair, just like he knew that Cougar had done to him when he had fallen asleep on Cougar's shoulder at the laundromat.

Jake's chest clenched from fondness when he looked at Cougar's sleeping face. He was still battered and bruised, but he would get better. Cougar would be fine.

Jake breathed in slowly, his heart soaring.

"I'll be here," he whispered softly.

That was a promise he intended to keep for a long time to come.  


 

**Author's Note:**

> [CarpeDentum](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CarpeDentum) is my amazing beta, but yet again I made changes after she read it so there might be mistakes. If there are, they're all mine, though. You can find the original post on Tumblr [HERE](http://amethystinawrites.tumblr.com/post/119207162979/rinse-and-repeat). 
> 
> UGH. Just three more of these one shots to go! The first half of 2015 was crazy productive for me when it came to one shots, apparently, and I really want them uploaded before we head over to 2016. So there last three will come shortly, my lovelies <3


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